


The Lord's Right

by MissLiveByThePen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Infidelity, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Name-Calling, Nobles Doing Bad Things, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Punishment, Shameless Smut, Warrior Noble Kylo Ren, Wedding Night First Rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26308654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLiveByThePen/pseuds/MissLiveByThePen
Summary: Lord Ren had never enacted the Lord's Right to any of the new brides in his domain, until you were the bride. He never had any intentions of letting you go.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	The Lord's Right

**Author's Note:**

> New fandom, who dis? 
> 
> So there's no point in denying how much I've always adored Star Wars so here's to doing the most for the fandom. 
> 
> Cheers.

It’s considered a great honor for him to even consider you, your father told you in gruff, sharp tones as tears pricked in the corner of your eyes. You’ll marry Sir James, he’d said with pride, but Lord Ren will have your wedding night. You nodded dutifully as Marissa, your maid, stood near the edge of your bed with her fingers soothing out the creases of the pretty dresses special ordered from the capital. 

The deep blue one would look lovely as you stood beside your fiance to declare yourself his in body and soul. James was a kind man. An intelligent man with acres of land and vassals to keep him wealthy for generations. He was everything a good girl should want for herself and would provide her the best life he could. 

Every girl should desire the best life with a kind, wealthy man, but not every girl had captured the attention of Lord Ren. 

Only you. 

Despite your best efforts, a flash of heat pooled between your legs as you remembered the last night you were in his manor. Your father was an old ally from the war years and a grand party was thrown to celebrate Lord Ren’s birthday each year with his closest allies in attendance. Of course you attended, it would be a grand slight if you even dared think of not attending. Not just for your family, but for you personally. 

Lord Ren was a monster of a man. Known for cruelty to enemies and harshness to allies. His dungeons were said to be full of the worst kinds of torture. Rumors claimed he enjoyed torturing others. 

You knew that to be true. 

You were the one he had pressed against a wall with his thick fingers pressed inside your cunt. Torturing you with slow movements as his musicians played for the dancing couples just on the other side of the wall. You were the one whose bodice he unlaced so your breasts would be visible to his eyes and accessible to his mouth. And, you were the one that spasmed around his fingers like one of the capital’s whores when his mouth wrapped around your nipple for a hard bite. 

You’re glad Marissa doesn’t ask about the flush on your cheeks once your father has left because you’re sure the memory of Lord Ren pressing his soaked fingers into his mouth to suck them clean wasn’t going to leave you anytime soon. He’d left you debauched and ruined against that wall with a smirk on his handsome face.

“My lady,” Marissa interrupts your thoughts, “we must prepare. Time is escaping us and I still need to fix your hair.”

“Of course,” you tell her as you brush your hair out of your eyes. “When will the guests arrive?”

Marissa busies herself with guiding you to your vanity before she answers you, knowing the questions will only delay the inevitable. She runs a comb through your hair a few times before finally answering. “Most have already arrived. Lord Ren has requested seeing the bride before you wed Sir James.” 

Your eyes widened because you weren’t aware that Lord Ren would be in attendance. You wondered how James would react. He’d been calm learning that Ren was enacting his right as their Lord to take your wedding night, but surely he couldn’t accept those dark eyes watching you pledge yourselves to each other?

“Oh,” you breathed out as she finished your hair and instructed you to stand to replace your chemise. You’re thankful the bruise around your nipple has finally healed enough that she doesn’t notice the discoloration. “Shall we be expecting him soon?”

Marissa laughs softly as she tugs the soft, white chemise over your head, “no, ma’am. Lord Ren may enact the right of the first night after the wedding, but no one is permitted to see the bride before the wedding. It’s bad luck.” 

“You know I don’t believe in silly superstitions,” you reprimand her as your stomach flops nervously. Lord Ren wasn’t told ‘no’ ever. 

You stand again for the blue dress to be pulled onto you and laced up properly. It truly was a gorgeous dress. Soft velvet that would shimmer in the sunlight when you walked to meet your fiance. Thick sleeves to protect against the evening chill. Golden laces to showcase your beauty and wealth. Blue to represent the supposed purity of the bride. 

You found that just a little ironic. You hadn’t been pure since Lord Ren bent you over a garden hedge and sank his cock into you.

Marissa fussed as she searched for the jewelry you’re wearing for the evening. Family heirlooms that made your ears hurt from the weight of the earrings and throat clench from the tightness of the choker. “I’ll seek out your mother, my lady. I’ll be right back.”

You dismiss her with a wave of your hand before standing to peer out your bedroom window. The servants have prepared the garden for your wedding with steamers and flowers brought from the most exotic of places. It looks like a fairy tale from the book your nanny used to read to you from. 

The opening of the door doesn’t startle you as you keep watching the servants scurry like ants to finish preparations. It’s the loud locking of the door that has you rapidly turning around to meet the dark eyes of Lord Ren. 

“You cannot be here!” You snap at him, rushing over despite the heavy fabric of your dress to reach for the lock. His hand wraps around your wrist and tugs you away from the door. “My Lord!” You whine sharply, still trying to fight him to get to the lock and push him out of the door. A fruitless endeavor considering his strength.

Ren’s chuckles seem far too loud in the room as he wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you away from the door. “Naughty girl,” he chided as he kept you at an arm’s reach. Those eyes on you never failed to make you squirm and your cheeks flush as the deep baritone of his voice reminded you of stolen moments in corridors and passages. “You’re as pretty as a present,” he praised as he reached up to tug that little flyaway strand of hair Marissa’s talented fingers missed. “Maybe I should unwrap you now?”

You swallow down the whimper threatening to roll up your throat, but there’s no denying your legs shifting underneath your dress. This man does such unspeakable things to you without even lifting a finger. Just one look. One word. One deep chuckle in your ear as your cunt slick and eager. You are every bit as needy and greedy as he always claimed you were for him. 

“My maid will be back in mere moments, my lord.” You tell him as his fingers trace the golden laces of your dress. You wouldn’t be able to lace it yourself and Marissa wasn’t an idiot. She’d know someone was there with you, but you arched her chest towards him in defiance of your thoughts. “You can’t just-”

The hand gripping her chin was expected as Lord Ren grabbed her with a furious snarl, “you don’t tell me what I can and cannot do. You want me. I can tell how desperate you are for me.” He tugged the skirt of your dress up and slid his fingers between your thighs. They’re slick and his snort of amusement lights another fire in your belly as you spread your legs for him. Your gasp as his thumb ground against your clit makes him smirk. It highlights his face and the wound across his eye stretches with the action. 

It doesn’t diminish your attraction to him. It reminds you of the strength of this man. The hundreds of enemies he cut down with his sword during the last war. The images you created in your head of the stories of this man returning from the battlefield with blood smeared across his face and a snarl on his lips. Your cunt pulses and throbs as his fingers slip deeper into you, his thumb still pressing on your clit.

“Lord Ren,” you moan, grinding against his hand because you’ve always been weak to his touches. You should send him away. Defy him even as his fingers press against your lips and you find yourself flicking your tongue out to taste them. Yet, you don’t. You nip the pad of his finger and lock eyes with him. “We must hurry,,” you tell him. 

It’s what he expected of you because he mockingly pats your cheek. “Hands and knees, girl.” His fingers slipping from you leave you feeling empty, but the hunger in your stomach grew as you fumbled to your bed. Your hands scrunching the skirt up and bearing yourself to him. 

You turn your head to watch him over your shoulder. He’s undoing his own trousers and tugging them down as he kneels behind you. His added weight to the bed made it groan just a bit as he further flipped the skirt up around your hips. With one hand on your hip, he keeps you steady as his fingers slip between your labia again, fucking you with his fingers until you have to press your face against the duvet to keep from moaning out. 

He doesn’t allow you to finish, not before him. Never before him and sometimes never at all. When he pulled his fingers away, you braved looking behind you again to see him slicking his cock with the fingers he just removed from your cunt. 

His grip on your hip tightens as he fists his cock and strokes himself while watching you. Only a few strokes, but they’re just enough to fully plump that monster cock. He pulls you back to meet him and soon he’s sinking inside you until burying your face into the duvet isn’t enough to keep quiet. 

“The sounds you make for me,” he hisses as he shallowly thrusts inside you. Opening you up for his cock after the weeks you’ve been away from him. “My good little whore,” he teases as his hand grabs the back of your neck to keep your face down. It angles you back so your cunt is the perfect height for him to batter your insides. His hand feels massive as it spans the entire back of your neck and his fingers are tapping against your pulse. “I’ll send you to your new husband dripping me.”

It’s a promise that brings out another whine from you as your hips press back against him. You’re so full and so sensitive that each drag of his cock has the muscles in your thighs spasming from the effort to keep them spread wide for Lord Ren. You reach underneath yourself to barely touch your clit, knowing you were worked up enough that a little tickle would send you tumbling into your orgasm. 

He pinches your thigh and your hand drops back to the bed as if you’d been scolded by fire. “Hands above your head,” he orders as he stills completely. He’s buried deep inside you and you can feel every inch. The fathead of his cock pressed right against your cervix until you want him to move, but he refuses until you comply with his orders. Once your hands are clasped above your head, he moves. 

Stars, he moves. Lord Ren fucks like he fights. Wild and uncontrollable. Fast and deep. His cock pounding into you until all you can do is squirm and take it from him. You’ve turned your head to hide your moans into your arm. Biting down as each time he fills you seems better and better. You know you’re not long for a climax. Your cunt is spasming each time he fills you and trying to milk him each time he pulls back. If he’d just touch you. Press a singular finger against your clit, you’d be gone. 

It’s torture to feel such pleasure without relief. “Please, sir,” you beg as his thrusts become unpredictable. He’s close. You can tell from the soft hitch in his breath and the way his hand has moved from the back of your neck to the front. He’s closing his hand around your throat, putting pressure on your air.

It never fails to make you tighter for him. Wetter, even. You are a glutton for his whims. 

Just as you have had enough, he gives a final roll of his hips. Once, twice, and a third time before stilling inside you. The fire in your belly isn’t quelled by his seed, but made worse as he empties inside you. You’re on fire and desperate as you move your hips, begging and failing to grind against him. 

“Whore,” he accuses with a laugh as he gives a soft groan before pulling free. You can feel his seed dripping from your used cunt. Your legs quivering as he tucks himself back into his trousers and fixes himself up. You stand on trembling legs to catch a glance of yourself in the mirror. You do look like a used whore with your skirt and bodice rucked up around your hips and your face flushed. 

You were grateful you hadn’t put make-up on yet, because you were sure it would be ruined. Lord Ren did reach out to straighten your clothes and soothed down your flyaway hairs before pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. Biting them red as he pulled away, “congratulations on your wedding, my lady. I look forward to the reception.”

You stand there with his come sticking to your thighs as he unlocks the door and slips away. Weak-kneed and still with a burning arousal in your gut, you go back to the vanity. You think about touching yourself, even reach underneath your dress and touch your sticky thighs when the door opens with a harried-looking Marissa. Your hands jerk from underneath your dress and you press your messy fingers into your mouth to clean up the come left on them. 

The saltiness makes your mouth water. 

“Apologies, my lady,” Marissa bobs with a little curtsey. She notices your flush with a frown, “I hope I didn’t frighten you, ma’am. Someone misplaced the jewels and I had to search for them.” She held open a box with the earrings and necklace before placing the choker around your throat. The earrings are next and you hope she doesn’t see any hint of your previous state. 

It’s fairly difficult to ignore your arousal. Enough that you squirm the entire time your make-up is painted onto you and while Marissa doesn’t chastise you, you can tell it has her frustrated. There is no time for dalliances, though. Your groom has arrived and the priest is ready for you. As you walk out to the hill to greet your new life, your eyes stray from the sight of your awaiting husband to the hulking figure of Lord Ren at the edge of the ceremony. 

He winks at you and your cunt pulses in reminder of the evening to come.


End file.
